


How Many Jason Todd's Are There?

by QueenVictoria88



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Crime Fighting, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2020-08-11 00:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVictoria88/pseuds/QueenVictoria88
Summary: Up to Chapter 3 to be continuedJason Todd becomes Robin, then Stuff happens, eventually after coming back to life, he gets caught in an explosion while fighting Death Stroke and wakes up with temporary amnesia. Does the Batfamily fill him in on everything? Or just wait for him to hate them again?Excerpt:“I Don’t Know! Damnit, how many ways do I have to explain, I CAN’T remember!”Just then the kid touches the side of his ear as if he is listening to someone else. He responds. “Copy, I have him, but he’s uh…”  He looks Jason up and down. “He’s critical.”Jason’s eyes go wide. “Excuse me, Red boy, who are you talking—“ but he gets a hand up from the teen to silence him. “The fuck? Who’s that, the president of Tight’s R Us?” He snorts at his own comment.The boy continues ignoring Jason. “No, he appears to have suffered a head injury resulting in amnesia…  Are you sure you… right. Copy, Red Robin out.”“Red Robin? You call yourself Red Robin? Like the restaurant?”“Enough. We have to get you back.”“Back? Back where? To the bird’s nest?” Jason giggles feeling a little delirious.





	1. Red Hood & The 'stuff happened' Fiasco of the Century.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never posted anything unfinished. I know where this is going, but I thought I'd post now and see if anyone has anything they'd like to see happen.
> 
> Hope you like it!

Nightwing descends the stone stairs to the Batcave for the first time since another one of his and Bruce’s arguments. He’s going to put aside the fact that he shouldn’t be the first one raising the white flag, entering the Bat’s den, but Batman suddenly has a new Robin. With as little thought as someone grabbing for another tissue, Dick was replaced with a new loud mouthed crime fighting teen who looks shockingly a lot like him.

*Schwing* Nightwing instantly ducks hearing the metal slice through the air in the trajectory near where his head just was. The Batarang ends its trip by smacking into the stairs behind him.

“What the fuck.” Nightwing roars now crouched down in alert.

“So you’re the old Robin?” Teenage Jason Todd’s cocky voice and attitude stands across the room from Dick.

Nightwing slowly straightens up eyeing the kid dressed in a newer take on his Robin suit. “Seeing as how I came up with the name… with everything, it’s hard to say you’re the new Robin.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it stings getting kicked out of the greatest gig in the world, but that’s not my fault.” Jason saunters by him and pulls the weapon from the rock stairs.

“I didn’t get kicked'… Who the hell are you?”

“Jason Todd. Some detective you are, Dick Grayson.”

Nightwing’s fist balls with the idea of punching the grin off the smug brat and as he steps forward--

“Dick?” Bruce is surprised to see him in the cave.

Dick drops all tension. “Bruce, what?… Do you have a moment?” he asks with prime frustration

Bruce walks to the computer. “No.”

Dick folds his arms angrily, “Make one.”

Jason hops excitedly at the tension in the room, “Oh shit, please fight!”

The older men fire back simultaneously with Bruce tossing out a “Jason.” and Dick a “Shut up.”

Bruce gives Jason the Batman glare, which Jason eye rolls. Then Bruce follows Dick out of earshot from Jason.

“What is this? You’re new hobby? Collecting kids? Or did you just want to hurt me and ruin someone else’s life in the process?” Dick’s anger is intense.

Bruce’s eyes narrow, “I wasn’t aware I ruined your life on top of all the other assaults I’ve inflicted upon you.”

Dick gestures towards Jason as he accuses, “Bruce, what the fuck are you doing? He’s a kid, an unruly one at that.”

Bruce moves around Dick as if he doesn’t want to hear him, “Jason deserves someone to give him a chance. He has a ton of potential and—“

Dick stops short in front of Bruce “—Potential? What, to die? Are you running a factory now? Anyone who can do summersaults can put on a suit and join your crusade?”

Bruce grunts, “I didn’t hunt for Jason the same way I didn’t seek you out. I made a decision that would provide a positive impact on his life.”

“Bruce Wayne’s brand of parenting provides an impact alright. You can’t just pluck kids off the street and turn them into vigilantes. Especially one that’s left the GCPD worried about his ability to uphold your golden rule.”

Bruce fires back angrily, “Jason was headed for a life a crime and now he has a chance to make something of himself. His violence and anger will be redirected with time. He will be able to fulfill the role of Robin and—“

Dick thrusts a judgmental finger at Bruce. “—That’s another thing, you couldn’t have him pick another name? When he ends up killing someone, he’ll destroy everything I created.” 

“Dick, if you’re so concerned, why don’t you help?”

“Excuse me?”

“Help train him. If my ways were so flawed and I failed you, you’re obviously worried about history repeating itself. Why don’t you do something about it? Mentor him.”

Dick throws his hands up. “You’ve always been nuts, Bruce, but now you’re just cracked.” Nightwing turns to look back at Jason who is doing round house kicks on mannequins on the training floor, but not getting enough swing at the end. The kid wasn’t bad.

Bruce moves next to Dick, “He’s a hot head, but only because he’s been through hell. He has a natural ability similarly to you. I think you’ll find—”

“—That he’s shifting his weight too early?” Dick sighs. He turns to Bruce. Bruce grins in that slight cocky way of his that only Bruce can manage and Dick releases the tension in his shoulders. He closes his eyes momentarily and then meets Bruce’s eyes in an agreeing nod. Bruce walks away pleased.

Dick follows, “Fine, but he’s not becoming a Titan and if he mouths off too much—“

“--If you show him what you can really do, he’ll respect you. He’s not stupid, just…” Bruce trails off.

“An ass.” Dick provides and they share a look.

Bruce grins as he turns to look at Jason, “We can train that out of him.”

———————————————

Almost a year later.

Nightwing and Robin land on the Gotham City Movie Theater roof.

“Man, can’t believe I’m saying this, but I've missed you!”

Nightwing holsters his Escrima sticks as he nods to Robin, “Wow, you feeling okay? Or have you finally realized his megalomaniac tendencies aren’t sustainable?”

Robin turns around and walks backwards towards the other end of the roof, “That and despite you being a major pain in my ass, you are in comparison, a tad more fun.”

Nightwing catches up to him, shoots a line off and Robin follows. There is a heist in progress down below and the two are waiting for that sweet moment to pounce.

They land on an adjacent roof. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint, but the Titans have another mission coming up, a long one.”

“Damnit. Nightwing, you were just gone for months. Not saying I need you or anything. I just enjoy your occasional not annoying presence during patrol.”

“Mmmhmm.” Nightwing got out the binoculars to check in on their criminals. “Yeah, well that’s why I dropped in tonight. And to tell you that I was going off planet for a bit.”

“Well then, shall we?” Robin gestures.

Nightwing brings his hand to his chest dramatically and extends his arm as he slightly bows, “Oh after you.”

———————————

Three years later.

A bullet slices by Nightwing’s arm grazing his flesh about two layers deep. It stings, but he ignores it. “Jason? What happened to you? How… How are you…?”

“Alive? Well Dick-tip. I guess hell didn’t want me either.” Red Hood raises his gun again, but this time Nightwing charges at him. Escrima stick smacking the gun out of his hand and then quickly uppercutting under Red Hood’s jaw. He goes flying backwards.

“I won’t let you get away with this. You can’t keep killing people!”

Red Hood gets himself back up. The array of garbage that broke his fall slowly falls away from him. “That’s a shame because I didn’t want to hurt you. You were off planet and although you play into his sick agenda of recycling murderers for sport, I didn’t want to have to hurt you. But I fucking will if you don’t stand down.”

Nightwing raises his sticks up in front of him, eyes narrowed “Diddo.”

———————————————-

Two years after that.

For the last eight minutes it has been like two gods of equal strength battling to no end. Deathstroke a highly trained assassin underestimates the Red Hood’s skills. With the red bat symbol on his chest, Deathstroke takes for granted Hood’s lack of moral position on lethal tactics. And the fact that Jason himself is a lethal assassin now too. Although he was able to crack Red Hood’s helmet halfway off exposing Jason’s face, Deathstroke was spending more time blocking Hood and being tired out. Deathstroke detonates a bomb as a last resort. Surviving the explosion is a risk he is willing to take over failing his mission and losing the bounty he is promised from the Owls.

Completely side swiped by the blowout, Red Hood is launched across the warehouse and lands with a mound of building on top of him. Deathstroke is thrown only a few feet, but is now positioned closer to the exit for an escape. Moments go by. Jason opens his eyes only registering the massive throbbing pain coming from his head. Things look gray from the smoke in the air. He is coughing and can smell fire while he's also panting from crushed ribs. He realizes he’s stuck under something. He tries to lift his head. He sees a support beam across the one side of his body. He immediately becomes anxious as his thoughts race. ‘_What the hell? Where am I?’_

His confusion is causing panic and it gets worse when he sees the red symbol on his chest. ‘_Is that? Is that a bat symbol? Why am I wearing a bat symbol? What’s going on?’_ He is suddenly distracted by the smoke. He can finally see the fire around him, but the debris, it looks like… there was an explosion. His thoughts are jumbled as he’s trying to figure out the reality he’s woken up. He can't remember anything. 

Then someone moves across the room. His eyes focus on the man dressed in a red and orange costume making his way to the door. The man pauses as he stares Jason down with a glare. Jason is about to open his mouth to ask for help when he sees the two swords strapped onto the man’s back and a bunch of guns. Then the man is gone.

Jason feels something drip down the side of his face. He assumes sweat because the temperature is becoming unbearable with the fire spreading, but when he pulls his hand away he sees it is his blood. Shit! He has to get out of there. With no idea what he was doing or why he's dressed as a vigilante, Jason pushed panic aside and begins to pull his body out from the debris. He winces in pain with each tug, but eventually he frees himself. His left leg is significantly bruised and cut up, but he can tell the padding on his chest protected him from the worst of the damage. Finally, standing for the first time, he looks down at himself. _‘Holy gun show.’_ He runs his hands over his artillery. Given the fact that he has enough guns to be a one man army, he believes now he was fighting that man. He hears the above ceiling creak, growing more unstable and decides it's time to go.

He stumbles out of the building and pulls the broken helmet off to catch his breath. Staring at it, the red shine glaring at him, his heart races. He has no idea who he is. He tosses it aside and walks down the street directionless. At the moment, with the struggle it is to stand, Jason can’t worry about what he might look like. Or how he doesn’t know where to go. He recognizes he is in Gotham City and somehow that seems right. He looks back at the warehouse, fully ablaze and that’s when the man in orange and black jumps him from behind.

Jason instantly, instinctively reacts by elbowing him in the gut. With the man being distracted by the blow, Jason maneuvers out of his hold and draws a gun without hesitation. He feels like a robot on autopilot moving by a programmed reaction rather than his own commanded thoughts. Jason stares at the gun he has lift as involuntary as breathing. The man draws his sword.

“Uh… “ Jason says trying to find the words. Every part of him feels like he should stay. He can feel the urge to fight still there just like he had known moments before what to do, but he didn’t trust it. He didn’t know who this man was… he didn’t remember. He does the exact opposite of what feels right. Jason shrugs his shoulders at the man and turns to run away as fast as he can. Busted leg be damned.

“What the fuck…” The man questions, but Jason doesn’t care. After about six blocks of a difficult, forced run, with shooting pain in his leg, he looks back. The man isn’t following him so he darts down an alley in search of a moment to breathe.

Jason, still holding the gun, baffled by his own experience with it, tucks it back into its holster. Desperately trying to catch his breath and ignore the pain in his ribs and leg, he suddenly sees a flash of something in his mind. He grabs his head, he sees old cardboard boxes in the rain, then the image is gone. It looked familiar, like a memory, he assumes. Feeling lost and vulnerable Jason makes his way behind a dumpster so that he can’t be seen from the street. Another move that feels like instinct taking over. His head is cloudy, his chest is tight and he feels tired like he could pass out any second.

_‘Great, you don’t remember who you are. Or why that guy was after you. You're about to lose consciousness in an alley. What the fuck are you going to do now?_ More thoughts creep through his confusion as he sinks down the brick wall and onto the ground. _‘And why the hell do you feel almost at home sitting amongst trash?’_ Jason tries to stay awake by checking his pockets. He has ammo, cigarettes, a zipo lighter, knives and a broken cell phone that looks like a burner phone. He finds a wad of twenties bound with a paper clip. Then he sees on his wrist a strange watch type device which he's unsure truly is a watch. It too is crushed. As he tilts his head back feeling dizzy he thinks he’ll just shut his eyes for a second before trying to figure out his next move.

“What the hell are you doing? Are you okay?” The voice comes crashing into Jason’s mind, but startles his whole body awake in surprise. Pain now coming back. He wakes up to a teenage sized boy in a ridiculous costume standing in front of him. “Glad you’re not dead. Where’s your helmet? And Death Stroke?”

“You— He begins.

“—Yeah, me. I know I’m not your favorite, but big man and bratzilla are on mission elsewhere and when your comm went off line”, he gestured to Jason’s wrist, “I got stuck with the grand ol’ pleasure of coming to your rescue. Believe me. I’m only happy about the bragging rights of saving your ass, so just make your “not dead again” jokes so I know you're fine and I’ll be out of your way.”

The boy seems certainly put off by him, but at least that meant he was familiar with him. “My Comm.?” Jason asks unsure. He looks at his wrist. “It’s a communicator.”

“Whoa… how much smoke did you inhale? You look like shit by the way.”

“So you know who I am?” He asks and then continues more talking to himself “I mean of course you seem to know me.”

The boy crosses his arms in annoyed disbelief.“What? Come on, Todd. Knock it off?”

“Todd? Sounds preppy?” Jason is staring at him honestly confused.

“Shit, Jason. He kneels down to Jason’s eye level. “This isn’t funny!”

“FUNNY?” he explodes, “Kid, I just woke up in a burning building with a maniac in some goofy suit and two large swords trying to kill me and now you’re …well you’re in what I can only assume is some theatrical number and nevertheless still tights, some ridiculous outfit and you think I think it’s funny?! I’m covered in guns! What the hell is going on?!” He ends his rant with a whine of pain as he clutches his abdomen.

“Jason—“

“Guessing that’s my name?”

“Yes, listen to me. First follow my finger.” The boy drops all attitude. So Jason does as he is told. “What’s my name?”

“Uh definitely not Einstein, because _Clearly_, I don’t know!”

“Can you tell me where you live?”

“I…. I can’t remember.”

“Or what is it we do?”

“I don’t know! Damnit, how many ways do I have to explain, I can't remember!”

Just then the kid touches the side of his ear as if he is listening to someone else. He responds. “Copy, I have him, but he’s uh…” He looks Jason up and down. “He’s critical.”

Jason’s eyes go wide. “Excuse me, Red boy, who are you talking—“ but he gets a hand up from the teen to silence him. “The fuck? Who’s that, the president of Tight’s R Us?” He snorts at his own comment.

The boy continues ignoring Jason. “No, he appears to have suffered a head injury resulting in amnesia… Are you sure you… right. Copy, Red Robin out.”

“Red Robin? You call yourself Red Robin? Like the restaurant?”

“Enough. We have to get you back.”

“Back? Back where? To the bird’s nest?” Jason giggles feeling a little delirious.

“To the cave? You need medical attention.”

“Oh excuse me, the cave with bears as Doctors?! What Cave? Why not a hospital?” His sarcasm is the only thing keeping him mostly calm.

“You want me to take you, covered in guns to a hospital…now who’s the Einstein?”

“I don’t want you to take me anywhere, I don’t know—“

“—Listen, we’re not safe here. You were on a mission to intercept that man, who’s name is Deathstroke and with a name like that I think you can infer he’s not a good guy. Did you stop him from completing his mission?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Do you have anything like a disk or a drive on you?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Regardless, you don’t have your helmet on, you’re injured and exposed. Not to mention you’re a liability.”

“How? I don’t know anything.”

“And if an enemy like Deathstroke were to find that out, they’d take advantage of it anyway they could. Now just come with me.” Red Robin tries to pull Jason up by grabbing his arm.

Jason forcefully pulls his arm back down. “Wait. Why should I trust you?”

“Seriously? Do you see anyone else'-- forget it.” He says angrily and takes his domino mask off. “My name is Tim Drake and I’ve known you for a few years. You’re name is Jason Todd. If you would like more concrete proof, you have a large long scar on you’re right arm.”

Jason pushes up his jacket sleeve to see the scar. “All this proves is I wear short sleeves.”

“Christ! Why did I think you having amnesia would make you any less… YOU! There’s no one else coming to help. If I turn out to be someone against you, just use one of your many guns. Now come on!”

Jason grins, the kid has a point. He holds out his hand for Tim. “It’s going to get weirder when we get to this cave isn’t it?”

Tim just grins back and grabs his hand to help him up.

Jason goes to walk and he makes it exactly one step and then the world spins and he’s flat on the ground.

Tim turns and watches him fall. He makes a failed flailing attempt to catch him, but he misses. He shakes his head, “I… should have seen that coming.” Tim then presses to his ear before he begins to get Jason off the ground. “Alfred. I’m bringing in one unconscious. …. No. Jason Todd… I know, I’m surprised too.”

————————

When Jason wakes up again he’s in a sinfully comfortable bed. The room is dark except for the light coming in from the window making Jason think he had slept through the night. His head is covered in bandages as is his chest and leg. He doesn’t recognize a single thing in the room and yet he has that strange familiar feeling. Like with seeing each thing his brain is trying to register it like a computer reading a disk. Instead, it is just skipping and never actually being read; his mind empty of any clarity. It is an incredible room with a large fire place, bookshelves filled with books, ornate lighting fixtures, expensive draperies. Tim Drake must be a rich son-of-a-bitch. He tries to sit up. The pain in his ribs keep him horizontal, but he manages to elevate enough. He turns to the night stand and sees a picture. At first, it doesn’t mean anything and then with a second glance he quickly reaches for it without thinking. ‘UGHN! He lets out a grunt having accidentally extended in such a way it sends a shooting pain through his torso. He struggles until he gets the picture. Shocked and staring, it is a picture of himself, as a teenager. He is with two older men, the furthest man being the oldest and dressed as a butler. “What? Do I live here?" Before he can study the other man in the photo there is a tap on the door.

“Jason? You awake?” Tim asks as he slowly pushes the door open peaking in.

“Yeah.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I almost died in an explosion.” he says sarcastically, but when he does Tim’s face twists. “What?”

“Uh… nothing.” Tim shakes the irony off and continues. “Can we talk.”

“Yeah. Let’s start with where the hell am I? Where are my clothes? What is it we do exactly? Who were you talking to last night? And who’s this?” He says holding the picture up. “I must be like fourteen in this picture!”

“Fifteen.” Tim corrects.

“And who are they?”

Tim manages a small smile. “Permission to sit while I answer twenty questions?” He gestures towards the chair near the bed.

Jason nods as if he couldn’t care less.

“Alfred, the older man in that photo, he assessed you last night. He’s the one who fixed you up and he’s confirmed you do have amnesia. He believes it to be temporary due to the cranial injury you sustained.”

“That’s the good news, what’s the bad news?”

“Who said I have bad news?”

“People don’t sit for good news.”

“It’s just that this is complicated.”

“Why?”

Tim sighs searching for where to begin.

Jason looks at Tim and then around the room again. The room is rather museum like, untouched. “This is my room isn’t it?” Tim nods. “And lots of dust means I haven’t been here in a while…have I?”

“No… you haven’t. And don’t let Alfred catch you saying there’s dust in here.” Tim smirks

Jason continues. “Last night, when you first saw me, you didn’t seem thrilled…so am I friend or foe?”

“Look when I say complicated, I don’t mean uncomfortable to say. I literally mean complicated.”

“Look, Tim… right? Tim?” Jason questions.

“Yes, Tim.”

“Are you going to actually answer any of my questions or just make me keep guessing as to who the hell I am? I can’t remember a single thing. I mean, I woke up trapped in a burning building with a sword wielding maniac after me and then you show up… and suddenly I’m not sure who’s the maniac.”

“Jason. …. Bruce thinks its best if we don’t say anything at all till he gets back.”

With the mention of the name Jason a few flashes. “Bruce… Bruce Wayne? Is that right?” Jason is squinting like he’s in pain.

Tim raises an eyebrow, “Yeah, you remember?”

“Not really, but when you said his name I remembered Bruce Wayne is the billionaire in Gotham and then this photo, that’s him, right?”

“Yes. This is his house, that’s his butler, Alfred and—”

“—I have a room in Bruce Wayne's house?"

"Yeah..."

"And so do you?"

"Yes--"

"We were both wearing Batsymbols. You're not saying..."

"Guess I am." 

"Bruce Wayne is Batman."

“Yes.”

Jason puts his hand to his head. "How long… I’m fifteen in this photo? What the—“

“—Calm down. You still have a room in his house because you were at one point Robin. Batman's second Robin after Dick Grayson went from Robin to Nightwing. He also adopted you at one point. Then stuff happened and now you’re The Red Hood and _just … Jason Todd_.”

“Adopted? Shit..... and I was a ROBIN? Like Robin, Robin?" This is all really strange.

"Yeah, pretty good one too."

"But what does 'just Jason Todd, mean?” 

"Nothing..."

"And what 'stuff' happened?" Jason is growing impatient.

Tim shakes his head, “Come on, you’re in your twenties. You can’t possibly expect me to be able to fill in all the missing years. It started when he took in Dick, he adopted him eventually, then Dick became Nightwing. Then you. I was once Robin too and adopted by him. There have been a few Robins before the one he has now. He has others who help but… there’s a lot to tell.”

“He has another adopted Robin?”

“No. He’s …he’s his biological son.”

“Jesus christ. What is with this rich dude’s hard on for collecting kids and then turning them into vigilantes?”

“It would be great if that is where the unconventional of this family ended, but uh…” Tim trails off leaving silence happening for a moment while Jason tries to process.

He looks Tim over. “So you’re like my brother or something?”

Tim lets out a baffled laugh, “Closer to the ‘or something.”

Just then there is another knock at the door. Forgive me gentlemen, but I believe it would be best if Master Jason tries to eat a little food.” Alfred walks in carrying a full tray.

“Master Jason”, he repeats slowly.

“You’ll get used to it, it’s Alfred’s thing.”

''I do not have a thing, Master Timothy. It is called manners. Also, Master Dick is in the foyer looking for you, Sir.”

“Thanks, be right back.” As Tim stands to leave, Alfred places the tray next to Jason who is forcing himself up higher in the bed. Jason doesn't feel hungry, but he makes himself eat. The moment he takes a bite, he realizes two things. This Alfred guy can cook and he's actually starving. As Jason’s inhaling too quickly to chew and getting to know Alfred, he hears whispers in the hallway.

“Yeah, but it’s ironic, just ask him, I’ll bet he’ll say it again.” 

“Shh.” The other one says and enters the room. “Hey Jason how ya feeling?” A taller well built chiseled-faced man enters the room with Tim behind him.

Jason swallows, “Guess you’re Dick Grayson?” 

“Yeah. How’s your head?”

“Uh, survived a game of explosion dodge ball.”

Dick grins. “So Drake tell you all about the secret life of Gotham’s vigilantes?”

Jason shovels more food into his mouth, “Sort of, you’re who again?”

“Nightwing.”

“How many of you… us are there?”

“A lot.” He says as he crosses his arms. “Man, you really don’t remember anything?”

Jason pauses balancing a fork over the plate, “Is there something in particular I should be remembering?”

Dick quickly changes tone as he shifts his weight, “No.”

“I don’t remember anything… just some flashes here and there.”

“Flashes?” Tim chimes in.

“Yeah like when you said Dick was the first Robin, I saw a flash of a suit…a green. yellow and red suit. I don’t really know…”

"Good, sounds like you’re memories trying to break through..” Dick offers.

“Yeah, here’s hoping, I’d really hate to be ya know…doing something I’m not suppose to.”

Dick and Tim look at each other. “Well you’re safe here for now, so get some rest.”

Jason picks up on Dick’s deflection. He can feel them holding something back and he doesn't like it. However, he isn’t sure what to do just yet, so he lets it drop. “So before you came in, Tim was telling me about how Bruce Wayne isn’t some sicko who obsesses over bats and abandoned kids.”

Dick laughs and turns to Tim, “He isn’t? Well Tim, don’t let me stop you.” Tim side glances at Dick.

“Seriously… what’s his deal?”

It’s Dick turn to sit. “His deal… our deal is Justice. We all have our own reasons. My parents died in front of me and Bruce was there. It reminded him of when he watched his own parents die and being that he was Batman, he felt like he should take me in. I wanted to help the cause so I became Robin. Eventually things happened and I became Nightwing. Then he found you, homeless on the streets and took you in, then you became the next Robin. Uh, things happened again and eventually Tim found him or us and became the third Robin.”

Tim picks it right up, “Yeah then more things happened and now I’m Red Robin and Damian, his son, is the current Robin.”

Dick looks to Tim gesturing, “There’s also Batgirl, Bat Woman—“

Tim looks back at Dick “And Spolier and—“

Jason throws his hands up, “And lions and tigers and bears?”

Dick grins “Pretty much.”

“Well that sounds incredibly—“

“—complicated?”

Jason’s eyes narrow, “No. The opposite. I was going to say over simplified.” Especially the part where Dick tossed in how Jason was homeless.

Tim and Dick attempt to explain, “Uh” “Well I mean—“

“Stuff happened” Jason offers, even though he thinks they are incredibly transparent.

“Right.” They both say, looking at each other as if they know they’re full of shit.

“Mmhmm”

Dick stands, “Look, Bruce is due home in a few hours. We’ll answer your questions and deal with this later, but right now get some rest, you’re no good to us like this.” He smiles and pats Jason on the shoulder. “See ya.”

The two leave and gently shut the door behind them.

“Uh…Later.”

They walk down the hall and head down the stairs. Tim is half laughing at Dick, “You’re no good to us like this?”

Dick shrugs his shoulder, “What?”

“How very Bruce of you.” 

He looks back at Tim, “Hey, I felt I had to distract from ‘stuff happened’ fiasco of the century. What did Bruce say when you told him you brought Jason here?”

“He _told_ me to bring him here.”

Dick stops as he hits the bottom step. “What?”

Tim walks past him into the living room, “I know! I’ve been waiting for Bruce and Damian to return just to see it play out, like on the edge of my seat popcorn ready waiting.”

“Is that really why you called me? Not for concern for Jason, but—“

Tim turns around walking backwards through the dinning area, “—The first time Jason Todd comes back into Wayne manor after his death, not looking to kill one of us, he has full blown amnesia… I thought you deserved a seat to the show.”

“Wow.”

“What?” Tim stops.

“I just haven’t seen this side of you, Drake.” Dick says as he passes Tim.

Tim hurries to keep in pace, “Disappointed? Impressed?”

“Slightly concerned. …What’s the matter with you?”

Tim smiles, “Dick, be honest, tell me you haven’t considered the possibilities here of reprogramming Jason.”

They both stop in front of the Grandfather clock entrance to the cave. “That’s not… if you tell him other versions of the truth it won’t suppress his memory. Eventually, he will remember then he’ll easily figure out you lied to him.”

Tim opens the clock and sets the hands so it slides open. “So maybe we don’t tell him lies, maybe we just pretend we’re on great terms and form new happier memories here and now and when he gets his memory back he’ll be conflicted, but on our side.”

Dick turns to Tim, “You’re the smartest Robin, and so you must know how juvenile you sound. Did Bruce give you orders?” Dick turns back and heads down the stone stairs.

“Yeah, he said don’t tell him anything that he would handle it but—“

“—But, sounds like this conversation is over.”

“Seriously? Dick we have an opportunity here.”

“You’re real motive here is?”

“He tried to kill me.”

“So this is revenge?” Dick hits the floor to the cave and all the lights turn on.

“No. …I came here because Batman was destroyed by Jason’s death and—“

“You think you’re going to fix Jason and Bruce? That’s a pathetic reach, a desperate act for someone like me, but someone as intelligent as you, grasping at pipe dreams…what a waste of time. There’s no fixing Jason and Bruce.” Dick turns on the computer.

Tim is following behind him, turning on other parts to the cave, “You always said the Jason you knew before had promise and that’s why Bruce was so devastated. The guy in that room isn’t like the Jason who tried to kill me. Who is he?”

Dick pauses. He looks at Tim. “Yes, the man in that room is closer to the Jason I knew before, but Tim, he will remember and all of that pain and hate will come back. Just quit while you’re ahead.”

“I’m shocked you’re so pessimistic about this.”

“And I’m surprised you’re being so naive.” Dick pulls out the computer chair “Bruce said wait, now put your efforts into finding out what Deathstroke took last night and wait.” He gestures for Tim to sit and walks away.

Dick is relatively in denial. He remembers how it felt when Jason died. Then how much it hurt again when Jason came back to life, broken from the lazarus pit and brainwashed by the League of Assassins. It took months for Red Hood and the Batfamily to work their way back to not fighting when they saw each other. Tim doesn't remember because he was benched after Red Hood went after him. Nightwing and Batman cleaned up that mess. Then suffered through months of Red Hood's Revenge Rampage. It would sound like a bad video game if Dick didn't still have the scar from the bullet Hood put into his arm that night. Even though all of that was gone just now during their interaction because Jason's forgotten, unfortunately Dick can't. Despite the fact that he did sound like the little boy Dick helped train, Dick is too apprehensive to let himself go to where Tim instantly went. Bringing Jason back in on their side... it couldn't work. No, Dick has resolved himself to waiting for Bruce. Mainly because Bruce’s reactions give Dick a way to gauge how he should feel. That fact is embarrassing for him to admit to Tim. Like a good soldier, Dick just wanted to focus on the mission at hand, Deathstroke.


	2. Victim 4.0's vote

Jason shoots up in bed with hoarse yawp escaping his panting breath as visions of him choking in green waters wash away. His frantic hands clutching his chest checking himself over, reassuring he is no more injured than before. There is an overwhelming feeling of loneliness that accompanies amnesia, compounded by Dick and Tim being evasive earlier and Jason decides he’s not getting any rest in this bed.

He awkwardly stands with his leg bandaged from his thigh to his knee. Clumsily he walks, lopsided, cumbersome, but the pain isn’t as bad as he anticipated. He reaches the door and the full length mirror on its back shows his reflection. His image is like something he’s known, but never consciously thought about. He doesn’t recognize the scars and his lack of information nags at him. He can’t stomach anymore so he decides to make his way through the museum like hallways of the mansion for answers. He's moving through the silent air with brisk touches of the soft wallpaper that are producing swift flashes of the past. Jason knows where to go, yet somehow nothing looks familiar. He is desperate to remember.

“Barbara’s intel proves we were wrong and it’s confirmed, Deathstroke stole that disk for the Owls, not the League. Leaving us at why DeathStroke would be working with the Court of Owls?” Tim asks without ceasing his clacking of the Batcomputer keys.

Dick shuffles the papers back into the the file he’s holding before opening another. “He’s a hired assassin. You mean, what could they want from him?”

Tim motions in protest, “You can toss money out to assassins and get twenty who come to chomp the bait. Why Death Stroke? …The most tactically trained Assassin who’s in line with the League?”

“The Owls want in with the League, go through Deathstroke.” Dick suggests.

“No. That’s what I thought at first. He’s in the with League of Shadows and they have a lot of control, but there’s no record of them dealing with the Owls. And according to our source, what Death Stroke stole came from Shamshir Industries. ”

Dick pauses, “Isn’t that one of the subsidiary companies that outfits the League?.”

Tim finishes typing before exclaiming, “Exactly!”

Dick makes his way over behind Tim to see the screen.

“So you’re saying they chose Deathstroke, why to operate as a mole?“

“-Or to double cross and retrieve classified information on the League only he would know how to get or have access to get.” A schematic of the warehouse that fell on Jason appears on the screen.

“That’s risky, even for Deathstroke, must be a huge payoff.”

“Either that or it’s personal.”

“Most likely both.”

“Gentleman, some cucumber sandwiches and Iced-Tea.” Alfred places the sandwiches near the boys. “Sounds like you are getting close?”

Dick shakes his head, “Not close enough.” 

“So you haven’t figured it out?” The accusing voice echoes and all three turn to see Jason hobbling down the last step.

Tim looks confused.“How did.. oh you followed Alfred.”

“What? Do I need my own vegas style spandex to be down here?”

Wanting to avoid tension, Alfred is quick to deflect. “Master Jason, I didn’t know you were feeling better?”

Jason starts to answer, but the cave door opens. There’s a rush of noise as the Batmobile speeds in and stops in its holding spot. The roof to the car slides back. The kid in the Robin suit jumps out first. Then the dark figure of Batman stands to exit the vehicle and Jason subconsciously holds his breath.

“Drake, I thought you said he was a vegetable? He looks like the same old jerk to me.” Robin spats as he takes sight of Jason in the cave. He brushes past him quickly as if Jason doesn’t matter and he heads to the gear table to begin removing his utility belt.

“Amnesia is not a vegetative state, moron.” Tim snaps back, but he receives a glare from Dick.

“Damian, knock it off.” Dick chastises.

Jason ignores the rude one not bothering with introductions since technically they know each other, even if he can’t remember. His focus is transfixed on Batman, who is fidgeting with a device on his arm. World’s greatest detective and he looks oblivious to the fact that Jason’s standing in the middle of his cave. Yet, without looking up, “Hello Jason.” The drop of Jason’s name out of Batman’s mouth hits with a smack of surprise. Jason can’t help but think cool.

Jason remembers to breathe and somehow manages to squeak out a low unassuming “Hey.”

Batman finally looks up at him. Dick and Tim are silently exchanging side glances out of excitement, after all they’ve been anticipating this moment.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he exits the Batmobile and walks towards him.

“…Confused.” Jason admits.

Batman removes his cowl. Bruce Wayne’s face elicits memories, but they’re jumbled, unclear and gone as quickly as they come in Jason’s mind. “Alfred says you’re going to make a full recovery.”

“Uh…hope so. Some things have already come back.”

“That’s a good sign.”

Time for answers. “Look. There are some things that don’t add up.”

“Like?”

“Like why I’m healing so fast. Earlier it was difficult to breathe, but now I could go round for round on the Masked Singer.” Bruce stares at him blankly. “It’s a show.” Neither the stare nor the man flinch. “Famous people wear masks and si— whatever. Your posse over here attempted to fill me in some, but other than a fast forward history lesson filled with holes and the over-use of their apparent catch phrase, ‘stuff happened’ “, he looks in Tim and Dick’s direction and they both shrug it off. “I was hoping you could give me the cheat sheet as to our situation here?”

“A lot has happened.” He says dismissively as he passes Jason.

Jason turns and folds his arms to assert dominance, “Try major headlines.”

“Amnesia studies have shown it is better for the brain to heal and remember naturally than deal with conflicting information. That is why I informed the boys to be vague.”

“That’s a deflection if I’ve ever heard one. And the rapid healing?”

"That is entirely normal for you.”

He grows impatient “Because…?!”

Just then the computer monitor turns on and the alarm sounds. Oracle is on the screen. “Batman, the Owls are at it again. Juniper and 17th!”

“Copy Oracle. ” Bruce quickly throws his cowl back on and rushes back to the Batmobile while Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin add the last minute gear to their suits and start heading to their cycles.

“Wait! No. What about—“

“—It’ll have to wait.” Batman barks. Before Jason can protest again the group of them are gone. Leaving Jason standing in the cave with dissipating echoes of their departure. The reverberation getting softer until it is just him and the hum of the monitors.

“Fuck.” Jason’s fists tighten. He wants to punch something hard. He considers the Batcomputer. Envisions the relief, temporary, but most likely worth it.

“The computer is voice activated, not telepathically compliant. Well, not yet. Give Lucius another year or so, I bet he will have that patented for Wayne Enterprises as well.” Jason loosens his fist as he’s startled to hear Alfred come up behind him.

“Oh… I wasn’t…” He then realizes what Alfred has just said and he immediately tries it. “Jason Todd.” He commands.

The computer reads **JASON TODD FILE NUMBER 967 **as the file is shown on the screen.

Jason looks at Alfred perplexed as what to do next.

Alfred raises an eyebrow and sighs, amnesia shouldn’t affect his IQ. “Open file.”

“Tt, duh” Jason mumbles feeling stupid.

The following information appears on the screen.

**CIVILIAN NAME: JASON PETER TODD. **

**VIGILANTE ALIAS: RED HOOD **

**ASSOCIATION: ASSASSIN GROUP -THE OUTLAWS. **

**H:6’0 **

**W; 220 LBS **

**HAIR: DARK BROWN **

**EYES: GREEN **

**RIGHT HANDED **

**LAST KNOWN LOCATION: GOTHAM CITY **

**STATUS: ALIVE **

“Pretty sure I’m 6’1” Jason jokes.

“Are you, sir?”

“Yes, but then again I didn’t think I was an assassin so who am I to be certain.”

“I would spend some time reading through the next few pages, Master Jason. The broad term of assassin may surprise you.”

Jason watches Alfred leave before he takes his advice. He pages through certain events Bruce has on file where The Outlaws assisted the Justice League. He reads the name Superman and somehow he takes comfort in that. He’s reading the third or fourth page of events that seem slightly familiar, but he can’t be sure if he’s imagining himself there or he actually remembers it. He sits back in the chair overwhelmed.

“Master Jason, how’s the history lesson?” Alfred is back and this time he’s recycling the untouched cucumber sandwich tray. Jason politely takes one regardless of the fact that he has a high index of suspicion he hates cucumbers. What does he know. He takes a bite. … he hates cucumbers. Nevertheless Alfred seems elated he’s finally gotten a taker.

“Somehow this is worse. I can’t tell if I’m a good guy, a bad guy… if I remember any of this shit.” Alfred’s face twists. “Sorry… uh crap.”

“Thank you for your manners. My apologies, Master Jason. I figured it’d be more advantageous to prove to you, filling in the blanks won’t necessarily give you all the answers.”

That was deep, clever butler, but Jason still wants more. “What do you think of me? Am I a good guy?”

“No one is all good or all evil. I’d turn to the 8th page.”

Jason does and reads about Victim 4.0. How they were lacerated from their left brachial artery into their anterior chest wall on the left lateral side. Red Hood proceeded to subdue the victim’s attacker with proficient speed and accuracy. Then he immediately rendered aid to the victim’s injuries starting with pressure, hemostatic agents to the chest and tourniquet application for hemorrhagic control of the left forearm, then initiated transport for further life saving measures. Red Hood’s quick action saved Victim 4.0’s life.

“So I know trauma protocols… that’s good to know.” He says almost sarcastically and then suddenly turns to see Alfred pulling open his white shirt revealing a scar. Jason hadn’t noticed him unbuttoning behind him this whole time. “Holy shit! it was you!”

Alfred quickly refastens his shirt and tidies himself. “Again, manners, but indeed.”

“uh sorry… and you’re welcome?”

“I’ll have you know you’ve managed at least one rescue if not more for each person who was in this room earlier. That is all the information I need to concern myself with in regards to your character and my trust in you. I know that doesn’t help with the missing information, but hopefully it can give you some peace of mind. I have some dishes to take care of, excuse me.” Alfred picks up the tray and again makes his leave of Jason. He sits for a few moments with that mouthful of a speech from the butler as it has given him a lot to consider.


	3. TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still working, hope you like where it's going.

When Batman and the others arrive, all they see is the aftermath of the Talons destruction. Turned over cars, small fires, broken store windows as if a riot had just occurred. No trace of the Owl’s Talons or injured civilians.

Batman speaks over the comms “Code 10-60” which to them means silent run or proceed without speaking.

They exit their vehicles and head to various points to scope out the scene. RedRobin runs his heat index and when it’s finished he shakes his head ‘no’ to Batman signifying there are no sign of the Talons. Nightwing heads to an intersection and clears it and the surrounding buildings. Robin has taken vantage point on a building and clears the surrounding area. Batman starts to look for signs telling where the Talons could have gone, but then quickly realizes there are no civilians in the area. That’s when his computerized vision in the cowl locks onto the blinking red light coming from a building across the street. He bolts into a run and shouts at the team,“ABORT NOW!”

The four scatter in their respective directions running away from their areas. Nightwing’s direction just so happens to include his cycle so he hops it and rides out while Batman has joined Robin on an adjacent roof top, both of them running in direction opposite the bomb. Red Robin is heading south on foot as his cycle was in the opposite direction. Suddenly the bomb explodes a mere 20 feet behind him and the wave of impact sends him flying. He lands head first into a car windshield and the force was so intense he continues through it and stops once he hits the front seat of the car. Robin ducks behind a piping system. Batman and Nightwing were clear of the area. The large explosion cloud that enveloped a radius of 35-40 feet sucks back down leaving fire, smoke and debris in it’s wake.

“Team Copy” Batman orders.

“Nightwing Copy”

“Robin Copy”

“Red Robin?” Batman switches to Red’s private channel. “Tim?” No answer.

“Batman, I see him.” Robin calls in, but before they can make a move the Talons suddenly drop in.


End file.
